


Proof Reader (Arthur Fleck x Reader)

by orphan_account



Category: Arthur Fleck - Fandom, Joker (2019), Joker (Film), Joker - Fandom
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-08
Updated: 2019-12-08
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:08:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21721990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: I was sent this request on Tumblr: Hey dear! I was wondering if you could write me a piece where Reader is a writer (like we are) and despite Arthur's reading comprehension being on the low end, he tries his hardest to read and enjoy Readers work :) bonus points for Arthur being the supportive boyfriend we all need 😅Cute Fluff! Enjoy!
Relationships: Joker (2019)/ Reader, Joker (DCU)/Original Female Character(s), Joker/You
Comments: 2
Kudos: 57





	Proof Reader (Arthur Fleck x Reader)

You sat together in comfortable silence. The sound of the clock radio that sat on the table between you filled the room, along with your pens scratching across the blue lined paper. Occasionally a siren would wail outside, causing you both to jump slightly, giggling as your concentration broke.

You loved being like this with Arthur. Together, but each in your own little worlds. He would write jokes, occasionally snickering to himself. You would work on your poetry, constantly amazed at how a string of words could feel so profound.

Arthur sat shirtless, his shaggy hair pushed back off his face with one of your headbands. You loved how he looked, the low hanging light cast shadows across his face, exaggerating the sharpness of his cheekbones and the curve of his jaw. He smiled to himself as he wrote, unaware of your admiring gaze.

You looked down at the words you had just scribbled out. A love poem. It wasn’t your usual style, you liked to write about the social ills that plagued the city, often reading your work at big protests and rallies. Arthur loved to hear you read out loud, you were beautiful when you were angry, shouting about redistributing the wealth and advocating for community solidarity.

But the mood had struck as you sat watching Arthur, your feelings for him squeezed your heart. You had yet to explicitly say the words “I love you” but you felt like the moment was right. You reached your hand across the table, brushing your fingertips against his wrist.

“Hey, do you have a minute to read this?” You asked, feeling bad for breaking his concentration.

Arthur’s eyes shift from the page to yours; a loving smile broke out across his face.

“Yeah!” He was always so excited to help you with your writing. You often ask him to proofread your work, even though his idea of proofreading is adding smiley faces to your “Os”, but you know it makes him happy to be involved with your process.

You moved to the other side of the table sitting on his lap. His arms wrapped around your waist and you feel nervous as he cleared his throat to begin reading.

"You’re the smell of the summer

Sticky legs on the subway seat

Holding my hand under the dinner table

Candy apple red

Sweet sugar in July

Kiss me Kiss me Kiss me

Neon light in the coffee shop window

My broken heart kept on the refrigerator shelf

Tripping over my two left feet

Spin me around, hands on my waist

Melted Neapolitan ice cream

Dancing in the living room

The jazz record skips

Frozen blueberries stain our lips and fingers

Cotton Candy Carnival Rides

I love you I love you I love you"

Arthur slowly pronounced each word. You helped him over the ones he stumbled over, nodding with encouragement when he figured them out himself.

He was excited to see you used his Ha-Ha’s name, his grin growing wider when he read the last line.

His voice caught in his throat, he paused, frozen, reading the line in his head again to make sure he had said it right.

Happy tears spilled down your face as you felt him kiss your shoulder.

“I love you, I love you, I love you” He mumbled against you.

“Do you like it?” You asked, already knowing the answer.

“Was this about me?” He asked, eyes growing red, he held back his laughter, throat scratchy. 

“Yes.”

Arthur let go of the notebook, his arms wrapped around you, hugging you tightly to his chest.

“Is this really how I make you feel?” His breath tickled your skin, your heart skipped a beat. 

“Yes.” You whispered, suddenly aware of how vulnerable you felt.

“It’s perfect.”

You let the words sit between you and you knew it was Arthur’s way of saying he loved you too.

“Can I read it again?”


End file.
